


What Didn't Happen In Vegas

by nbarker1990



Category: The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6975925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbarker1990/pseuds/nbarker1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was becoming an actual possibility, a maybe, and frankly it scared the living daylights out of her, regardless of how they both made light of the endless gossip depicting them racing to the altar every second week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Didn't Happen In Vegas

Almost from the inception of the relationship (once it had been sorted, labeled and settled, at least), it had been something of a joke for them. “Can’t get married yet,” she’d once said as they rolled their eyes at another tabloid’s lies. “Just you wait until the divorce is signed off on, though; you won’t get that ring on my finger fast enough, babe.”

“Sweetheart, I bought it two years ago. Doesn’t even matter that we didn’t know each other. My heart obviously did,” he’d replied, eyes crinkling adorably when he laughed afterwards. She’d kissed him then because even though she knew he was joking, they both could acknowledge that fate or God or _something_ out there in the universe had had a hand in how things had worked out.

Sitting in their hotel room in Las Vegas, looking through their Twitter feeds, it was feeling less and less like a joke to her. It was becoming an actual possibility, a maybe, and frankly it scared the living daylights out of her, regardless of how they both made light of the endless gossip depicting them racing to the altar every second week.

 

“I think we’d be shot if we ever broke up,” Blake said, letting out a small contented huff when she started running her fingers through his hair. He’d been sprawled across the bed, resting his head in her lap, for an hour now, and she wasn’t about to complain. She loved how needy he was for physical affection; it was gratifying, and the fact that he liked being affectionate in return even more so. “I swear, some of these girls are going to go into mourning if we don’t send them frigging personally signed albums _full_ of photos from our wedding.”

“And they’ll demand a poll beforehand, so they can have a say in our vows,” she added with a grin.

“Well, actually, that’s not a bad - ”

“Oh, fuck off,” Gwen interrupted, putting a hand over his mouth, not even surprised when he nipped at a finger. “You’re terrible.”

“Just lazy.” He closed his eyes as if to prove his point, turning his face into her belly. He was sweet when he was in this kind of mood, all relaxed and seeking her touch. She knew his relationship with Miranda had run extremely hot and cold over the years, and he’d told her more than once that this kind of contentment was new for him. She supposed it was similar for her in a way; there was a definite sense that she wasn’t walking on eggshells or trying to prove herself or anything like that. He was safe, and maybe some people liked relationships which were crazy and thrilling, but that had never been what she wanted from life. There was no lack of sparks between them and she still found it slightly surprising how ridiculously hot she found him, but there was also a sense of security that had always been lacking in her marriage to Gavin.

They’d talked a bit about it during those first couple of months, after they’d shifted from co-workers who merely said hello when passing to co-workers who spent breaks curled up on a couch in his trailer. She’d never expected to find a confidante in Blake and at first she’d kept second-guessing whether she should even be telling him things at all. Maybe it was the fact that he was going through the same thing as her (although he liked to play his hurts down in comparison to hers), or maybe it was just that he was a really, really great listener; she wasn’t really sure.

His arm stole around her, a warm weight that now felt as familiar as Apollo’s fingers tugging on her ear, and Gwen couldn’t stop the smile from appearing. He was like that a lot, bringing joy into all the little moments, moments she’d long forgotten could even _contain_ joy. With Gavin, there had always been that edge of wondering at his motivation. She’d learned fairly quickly that he was most affectionate and loving when he felt guilty. And he’d had reason to feel guilty a lot, both before and during their marriage.

 

“Blake?”

His response was a muffled ‘mmm’ against her bare skin and that was good enough. They were both talkers and she appreciated the fuck out of the fact that they communicated instead of assuming, but this was a topic that hadn’t been seriously broached. Their relationship had progressed in leaps and bounds and because he was practically moved in with her and the boys, it was easy to forget that this time last year, she had still been wearing Gavin’s wedding ring, and Blake had been wearing Miranda’s. So weird.

“Do you think we should talk about it?”

He turned, lying on his back so he could look into her eyes as she spoke. “’It’ being?”

“Like all this wedding stuff, y’know. I mean, I know neither of wants to rush off to some cheap-ass chapel but…”

Blake’s smile was gentle, and the way he took her hand was reassuring. Mostly. Her mind was stubbornly resistant to reassurance sometimes.

Sometimes when she was nervous, she ran her mouth, unable to stop the thoughts bubbling into words before she put them together properly. She’d curbed the habit while with Gavin as it only led to arguments, but these days… “I don’t want to come across as eager or pathetic or like the neediest woman in the world or anything. But I have the boys and this is like my future, and I’m a planner and even though I know we’re meant to just be living for the moment and it’s great, I mean, literally it’s the greatest thing, but I just was wondering - Not all the time, you know, but maybe just cos we’re in Vegas - ”

 

His kiss was the most welcome silencer in the world, she thought, relishing the curl of heat low in her stomach. She let him lay her down onto the bed and then he was over her, one of his hands gentle on her cheek, the other on her hip. It was familiar now, his touch, and that almost made it better. She’d thought about Blake sexually, just the once, before they’d broken from their respective relationships. It had been a disturbing and uncomfortable moment, seeing him and having the fleeting thought that she might like the feeling of his large, strong hands on her bare skin. She’d put the stray transgression down to a lack of orgasms lately and thought no more of it. Gwen was glad, so ridiculously glad, that her imagination had been so spot on.

“I know you love me, I do, and I’m not trying to force some kind of promise out of you,” she continued, a valiant effort, she thought, considering the fact that he’d now pulled aside her panties and his tongue was circling closer to her clit on every pass. “But one day?”

He pressed a kiss to her and it felt like an electric shock, heat pooling in her so fast she thought she might just expire from the rightness of it. And then his fingers were in her and oh god oh god oh god. She clung to him desperately, begged him, didn’t even bother to hide how much she loved him. Subtlety in the bedroom had never been her strong suit and so she didn’t try to bury her scream into the pillow when she came. Besides, he liked her loud. Lifting his head, he shifted back up her body, kissing her, letting her taste her on him. “One day you’re going to wear a goddamned beautiful white dress and I’ll put on an ill-fitting suit and yeah, one day, I’ll wear your ring.”

“And I’ll wear yours.” 

Blake kissed each of her fingers then, lingering on the one ring he’d already bought her a couple of months earlier, and really, maybe that one gesture had told her everything already.

“Third time lucky,” she said gently, trying not to make a big deal of it, because her boyfriend had hang-ups too, and the failure of two marriages before the age of forty? It didn’t make him proud. “I know I’m insecure and I know you don’t always trust me, and I know we’re still working on stuff, but I don’t think we’re doomed. Not anymore.”

 

His eyes searched hers and Gwen wasn’t sure exactly what he saw there, but she hoped it was what she felt, what she knew to be true. _I love you. I’m yours. We’ll make it_.


End file.
